Exhibitionist
by T.J. Lauren
Summary: Charley hated shopping, and had figured Peter would too.  He had hoped after the wakeup call he'd given the magician this morning, he'd be more amenable to it, but that theory was quickly backfiring on him... Peter/Charley


**Disclaimer: **Fright Night and all characters therein © Tom Holland/Craig Gillespie

**Word Count:** 3350 (Full version is 4363)

**Warnings/Rating:** M for language, sexual content, and adult themes.

**Author's Note:** THIS IS A CENSORED VERSION. I felt that the complete version is too graphic for the content rules here, so I am not posting the entire fic. The full, unedited, gloriously smutty version has been posted at my LiveJournal account, which you need to be 18+ to read. You can find a link to my LJ in my profile. Sorry, people, but I'd rather play it safe than get banned and not be able to post at all.

* * *

><p>"You know, if you want to give your mum clothes for her birthday, I have several perfectly good custom tailors that would be more than happy to have something normal as a side project to work on." Peter drawled, and Charley struggled not to roll his eyes. "Seriously, they'd probably be overjoyed to work on something that's not all Goth-y and dark for once. And anything and everything they make would be both one of a kind and far better quality than this shite."<p>

"Dude, we're in Nordstrom," Charley pointed out.

"Nordstrom Rack, yeah. They're shite," Peter replied, eyeing a sweater near him with distaste.

Charley shook his head and led the way over to the women's department. He hated shopping himself, and had figured Peter would too. He had hoped after the wakeup call he had given the magician this morning, he would be more amenable to it, but that theory was quickly backfiring on him and they had been in the store for all of two minutes.

Peter pouted and shoved his hands in his pockets, but trailed after the teen. Charley paused at the entrance to the section, unsure of where to begin.

He tentatively moved towards a corner filled with jackets and coats, but stopped when he heard Peter scoff. "Really, Charley? You're gonna get her a jacket? It's summer. _And_ you live in the bloody desert."

"Yeah, so? It gets cold in the desert at night," Charley defended himself.

Peter just gave a derisive snort. "You call this cold. Never visit England. Your balls would probably draw up so much, they'd turn into ovaries." He flashed a charming grin at an older woman who was walking past and giving him a scandalized look. Charley began to think it had been a mistake dragging Peter along.

"Can't you even pretend to have some class?" Charley grumbled, pushing past the magician to the other side of the department. Colorful dresses and skirts lined this side of the aisle. He gingerly felt the fabric on one. It was green, and had ruffles. That was alright, wasn't it?

"_I'm_ the one with no class? _Me_? You're getting your mum some ruddy skirt from a Nordstrom Rack for her birthday, and _I'm_ the one with no class?"

"Nordstrom is supposed to be a good store!" Charley argued, flustered. He let go of the green ruffle-y skirt.

"It doesn't matter where you buy the bloody thing!" Peter yowled, flailing in outrage. "Getting your mum a skirt is like getting your dad a tie; they're easy to pick out, they can never have too many of them, and you don't need to explode your brain trying to think of what they might really like. It's a cop-out gift. Ergo, _you_, Charley-boy, are the one with no class!" He jabbed his finger at the teen, eyes ablaze in triumphant vindication.

"Oh, just shut up!" Charley snapped.

A smug, catlike grin slid across Peter's face. "You know I'm right. That's why you're getting angry."

Charley crossed his arms and glared. "I've already gotten her something I know she'll like, this is just… extra."

Peter scoffed. "So let me get this straight. You wake me up on a Saturday morning with a very nice blowjob, only to drag me out of my nice warm bed, where I very happily would have cuddled with you all day and had a lots of amazing, kinky sex, so that you could drag me out shopping, to buy your mum an over-expensive crap gift that you don't even need to get her because you've already bought her something she'll like better?"

Charley chose not to dignify that with an answer and went back to perusing the clothes.

"We could've been having amazing, kinky sex!" Peter called after him despairingly, seeming not to notice the stares the other customers were casting in their direction.

Charley, however, was all too aware of the old lady sending more offended glares their way. And the balding, middle-aged man carrying his wife's shopping, who was turning a dull red and pretending to study the ugly tile floor. And the teenage girls a few aisles over, watching them and whispering to each other, blushing and gushing and erupting into giggles. Charley tried not to be embarrassed; after all, he was not the one being loud and crude.

What were they there for again?

Oh yes. Birthday present shopping. Deep breaths, focus Charley, focus…

"Oh, the snooty, long-suffering hero act, eh?" Peter crowed. "Going to ignore me now? Drag me out here to help you shop and then ignore my input - that makes sense!" His sarcastic tone made Charley want to punch him. Instead, he took another deep, calming breath and focused on the clothes. The skirts. There, that blue one, that looked fairly nice. He checked the price tag and frowned.

"Bit cheap, innit?" Peter sniffed, looking over his shoulder.

Charley grimaced. The wealthy showman would think that. He pushed the skirt back on the rack and stepped away from Peter. "Actually, I was thinking it was a bit steep."

"Really?" Peter stared at him, his eyes wide and baffled. Charley could not help but think it made him look like a startled frog.

He gave in to the urge and sent his eyes heavenward. "Look, I want to get her something nice, and I want to get it myself, alright?"

"And therefore, you decided to drag me along…because…?" Peter asked, giving him an expectant, bored look.

Charley's brow creased as he stared at his friend. "What, were you thinking I was gonna ask you to pay for it or something?"

Peter blinked. He actually looked surprised, and not in a 'why would you say that?' sort of way. Charley's frown deepened. "Jesus, you really did think that."

"S'what people usually want, when they take me shopping with them. After all, I've more money than I know what to do with," Peter said, not looking at him.

Charley watched Peter poke at a dress on the rack next to them. He thought about the sort of people he usually saw the illusionist interact with: showgirls and VIP backstage pass fans and party boy demi-celebrities - most of them were very much the sort of people that would hang around with Peter Vincent in the hopes of boosting their own image, coasting on Peter's fame and wealth.

Charley felt something break a little, and he reached out to take the magician's hand, tangling their fingers together. "Do I really have to have some ulterior motive for wanting you to come with?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Peter stared at their joined hands for a moment before looking up at Charley, that bright smile appearing and making Charley's heart flutter just a bit. "Alright then, let's have a look around!" he chirruped , dragging the teen forwards.

Charley let Peter tug him along and tried not to find the complete 180 mood-swing adorable.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, he was still glancing sideways at the magician and biting back either a smile or a grimace, he was not sure which. Peter was just next to him, babbling something about the social status of lace in fashion at the present. Charley was unable to decide whether the ridiculous enthusiasm was better or worse than the moody sulking. Both were very trying on his patience, but that seemed to be Peter's area of expertise no matter the circumstances.<p>

Charley picked up a deep blue skirt, eying it critically, turning it back and forth. He really had no idea, but it seemed like the sort of thing his mom might like. He checked the tag, frowning at the letters there. Size 8. And that meant… what, exactly? He squinted at it, trying to eyeball the waistband. Why couldn't women's clothing be sized by inches the way men's pants were? That was far more practical. He tugged at the waistband, but there was no elastic. He held it up again, frowning, then flipped it around and held it against his own waist.

A clattering noise next to him attracted his attention. He looked up to see his shopping companion slowly crouching down to pick up the hanger that he'd dropped. Peter was staring at him with an odd sort of grin that Charley was quite sure he didn't like the look of. "Shopping for you too, now then?" he asked, his lips twitching.

Charley blinked, looked back down at the skirt pressed against his hips, and blushed. "Uhh, no, I just… I don't know what size she wears, but I know Mom has nearly the same measurements as me," he stammered, "Um, she just, mentioned it in passing, last time she bought me some pants."

Peter chuckled and stepped closer to him, taking the skirt hanger from his lax fingers and holding it up against Charley's waist. "Pity, that. This much more your color than hers." He winked one rakish brown eye, and Charley could feel his face burning. He shoved the skirt at Peter and turned away, trying to ignore the magician's gleeful cackling.

"Oh come on, Charley, I'm teasing. Anyways, come here, I've found something that might work."

Reluctantly, Charley turned to look over his shoulder at Peter. The older man looked almost predatory, his grin cheeky. "Come on, then. If you're the same size as your mum, then I need you to try this on."

"Not a chance in hell," Charley stated, his tone firm and flat, but he took the proffered skirt.

* * *

><p>In Charley's opinion, once he had found a skirt that would suffice, they could have left. Peter, however, insisted upon working their way through the entire store. Whenever he found something he liked, he would study it for a minute or two before taking it by the hanger and shoving it at Charley to carry. Pretty soon, the younger man had his arms full of blouses and skirts and pants.<p>

"Um, Peter?" he said as the illusionist draped a sundress over the top of Charley's collection, "I really think we have enough to choose from. I only need one thing."

"Yeah, well if you're only going to buy one thing, then you need to make sure it's the best thing in the entire store. What was your budget again?"

Charley glanced at the price tag Peter was reading. "Too low for that."

"Damn, I really like this one," Peter said disappointed, hanging it back up.

"Look, seriously, I think we've got enough."

"Ooh! Jumpers!" Peter exclaimed and bounded away from him.

Charley sighed. "What happened to summer in the desert?" he called after the Englishman.

Peter had disappeared behind a rack and didn't answer, too busy flicking through the sweaters.

"Goddammit," Charley muttered under his breath irritably. He was thoroughly tired of shopping; no matter how attractive Peter looked when he was all excited like this, Charley's brain was going to dissolve if he had to look at one more overpriced scrap of cloth. He looked down at the armload of clothing and decided they had found enough to choose a good gift. "Peter, this is ridiculous. I'm putting most of this back."

Peter's head popped out from behind the rack. "What? Oh, come on, we're just getting started!"

"Don't care!" Charley threw over his shoulder. He wove his way back through the maze of clothing, putting back the things that he did not really like and the ones he was sure his mother wouldn't care for.

Peter trailed behind him, offering a few half-hearted protests at first before falling silent. He could feel the magician's eyes on him the entire time he moved between the racks, putting back nearly all of the things Peter had picked out. Charley refused to look up, certain Peter would take advantage of his admittedly masterful puppy-dog eyes to make Charley give in and let him shop. The man could be worse than some of the girls Charley went to school with.

When he had two skirts and a blouse left, he finally stopped pretending to ignore Peter and held them up. "Here, you pick, and then we'll go, alright?"

Peter looked at Skirt Number One. He looked at Skirt Number Two. He looked at the lone blouse.

Then he looked up at Charley, and the teen could tell from the sheer want in Peter's eyes that he was most certainly not thinking about which article of clothing his mom would like best.

Peter sauntered forward, backing him up against the wall, and leaned in close. "You know, you're really gorgeous when you're annoyed," Peter said, his voice low and heated.

Charley froze. He knew that look. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me, Peter."

Peter put his arms around Charley's waist, his fingers teasing under the waistband of his jeans. "You know me," he said in a sing-song voice. He pulled Charley closer, and Charley could feel Peter's hard-on against his hips. He tried to ignore the way his cock was already starting to harden in interest.

"We're in public, you ass," Charley said, trying to push past the taller man.

Peter grinned, sliding his hands down over the curve of Charley's butt. "I know. Makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"

"If by exciting you mean, sure to get us arrested for public indecency, then sure, by all means, call it - " Charley paused to gasp slightly as Peter rocked his hips forward. "-exciting," he ended, feeling mildly proud that he only slightly purred.

Peter hummed in delight. "Glad you agree, sweetheart." He moved in close and kissed Charley, and the teen couldn't help but kiss back. Peter's kisses were something Charley treasured - an act of intimacy that meant he was far more than just a casual fuck to his friend.

Charley's world narrowed down to Peter's body pressing him against the wall, wiry hands stroking his hips and over his ass, soft lips contrasted against the slightest scrape of stubble. He tasted like drugs, like burnt cloves and sickly sweet melon liquor. Charley's free hand came up to grip Peter's shoulder and pull him into an even deeper kiss.

A metallic screeching of hangers against a rack startled Charley into jerking away with a gasp that was as much from pleasure as it was from the shock of adrenaline. He looked over Peter's shoulder to see the glaring old lady from earlier, standing by a rack ten feet away and giving them the evil eye. He turned back to see Peter watching him, pupils dilated and lips parted as he panted lightly, catching his breath. The magician licked his lips and smiled, humming in pleasure as he leaned in again.

Charley pushed him back, reluctant, but firm. "No, Peter, stop. Not here."

"Aw, come on Charley - "

"No! No, no, no, enough." He held both hands up between them and moved a few feet away from Peter. "You're insatiable. How can you possibly be up for another round this soon after what we got up to this morning, anyways?"

"You know me," Peter said again, sounding smug.

Charley shook his head in disbelief. "Geez. Just wait, okay? We're almost done here." He held up Skirt Number Two, a knee-length one made from a gauzy, dark green cotton. "Here, we'll just get this one. Let's go pay for this and then we can go home and….yeah."

Peter was looking behind Charley, a predatory smile stretching slowly from ear to ear. "No, hang on," he drawled, "We've still got to check it's the right size."

"Oh, for the love of God, Peter!" Charley groaned. "You're seriously trying to delay us even more? Look, it's the same number as the other ones we've checked -"

"Yeah," Peter drawled out, and Charley could feel his cock hardening further at the sound of his voice. The magician looped an arm around Charley's waist, tugging him snug against his side. "But really, we ought to double check, just to be sure." He steered Charley around the racks and across the room.

Charley's head was still sort of foggy from that kiss, and Peter's scent right close to him was not helping his hard-on to back off any. He did not even realize just where Peter was leading him until they were walking inside the fitting rooms, past a gawking young clerk whose eyes widened at the sight of them. Peter pushed Charley in front of him and walked him down the narrow aisle way to the stall at the end. "This one free?" the magician asked over his shoulder, cheery as the devil. Without waiting for an answer from the store employee, Peter shoved Charley into the tiny stall. He followed close behind, shutting the door after him and immediately pressing Charley against the back wall, their shopping pressed between them.

The fitting room was cramped and narrow and smelled strongly of pot. Charley had to wonder if the pervading drug odor had anything to do with how lightheaded he was feeling. More likely it was the way Peter was currently sucking on his collarbone.

"M'sorry," Peter murmured against his skin between licks and kisses. "I know I've been an arse today." He straightened up and leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching, looking straight into Charley's eyes. "Let me make it up to you, love."

He decided that all the fuss over shopping was worth it to see Peter come undone like this.

* * *

><p>Peter leaned against him, holding him against the wall, his chest heaving. His head dropped down to rest on Charley's shoulder, their bodies pressed full-length against each other. Charley looped his arms around Peter's waist, and gave him a sweet kiss on the shell of his ear.<p>

Peter groaned lightly and pushed himself off the wall, standing up straight and looking down at him with a soft look in his eyes. Charley stretched up and gave him a light, chaste kiss on his reddened mouth, and Peter smiled.

The smile disappeared when Peter took a step back and looked down. "Shit," Peter bit out, glaring down at his leather-clad crotch. "I should've thought this out better; these are going to be hell to get out of by the time we get home."

Charley shook his head, grinning. "Well then we better get going. God knows you complain enough about those damn pants without getting them all sticky with cum." He stretched, feeling his spine pop, and reached for the clothes still hanging on the wall. "Come on, let's pay for these and get out of here."

Peter stole a quick kiss and turned around, his bum sliding against Charley's crotch as he unlocked the door and tugged it open to let them out. Charley shut it behind them, turned back around, and froze.

There were several customers and store employees hovering by the main door to the dressing rooms, looking at them with expressions ranging from horror to fury to knowing glee. Many of the stall doors were open, with people peeking around to get a look at the not-quiet-enough couple exiting the end stall. Charley felt his face burn, and for a moment he wished he could just sink into the floor and disappear forever.

Then he looked at Peter, who was watching him with a look that said he wanted to laugh but was sure he'd get smacked for it, and he suddenly couldn't feel embarrassed at all. He slung the hangers over one shoulder and grabbed Peter's hand with the other, squeezing it. Peter's smile broadened, and Charley gave him a slightly hysterical grin in return. Peter sputtered and broke down into giggles, and Charley led him out of the fitting room with his head held high. "You all wish you had it this good," he said to the staring crowd, feeling bold and daring and he was sure he was going to regret this once the afterglow had diminished. But Peter laughed outright when he said it, and Charley stopped caring.

He didn't even mind when the manager had them escorted from the premises without even letting them buy the damn skirt.

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><p>End<p>

I hope you enjoyed the story, and if you're looking for more of Charley and Peter, there's a lot more where this came from in my profile! Hope to hear from you!

ONCE MORE, IN CASE YOU'VE FORGOTTEN: THIS IS A CENSORED VERSION. I felt that the complete version is too graphic for the content rules here, so I am not posting the entire fic. The full, unedited, gloriously smutty version has been posted at my LiveJournal account, which you need to be 18+ to read. You can find a link to my LJ in my profile. Sorry, people, but I'd rather play it safe than get banned and not be able to post at all.


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